


Loud

by thegirlnamedcove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sterek Bingo 2018, Stiles Stilinski Accepts The Bite, Stiles Stilinski Wants The Bite, Werewolf Senses, explicit tag is for that and not sex, sexualized biting, some gore, that's a fucking theme with me isn't it, the bite is a gift, weird body descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14520339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlnamedcove/pseuds/thegirlnamedcove
Summary: "What's it like? Giving someone the bite?"





	Loud

“What’s it like? Giving someone the bite?”

The question is asked at two in the morning, with pot smoke curling above their heads, and Stiles and Derek flat on their backs on the floor. It had been a pack meeting, five hours before, but then Scott and Isaac had stolen off to some secret corner, and Boyd and Erica had to leave for their class at Arthur Murray (three more months till the wedding, Derek still got weepy periodically thinking about it), and Lydia had rolled her eyes at Stiles’ offer to hang out just the three of them, so now they were alone. Full of chinese food, high as a kite, and melted into a puddle of relaxed muscle.

He thought for a moment, pulling at the edges of his mind where it floated in his skull, and then hummed.

“It’s like...like you’re magnetic. You get closer and closer and you know what you’re going to do for them, and the...the magic or whatever it is starts to swell inside of you.”

“Heh,” Stiles chuckled, “ _Swell_.”

He smacked at Stiles’ shoulder ineffectually.

“Shut up. It gets stronger, whatever, and then you’re there, and your fangs are out, and their skin is so thin, and you can smell the blood underneath, and you can’t hardly resist at that point. Like magnets. You just snap together, and then it’s like something inside of you has snapped into place. Like, they’re a part of you now, and you’re a part of them, even after you pull away.”

Stiles stayed silent, just breathing, and Derek drifted as he listened to each breath. He could hear it enter Stiles’ nose, whistle slightly over the sinuses and various tubes in his head, run down his larynx, and fill his lungs. Then it all pushed back out, and the tissue of his lungs crumpled like cloth bags as they emptied. He knew so much about so many people, things that would be painfully intimate if he were to ever tell a human about them, and he was never quite sure how he should feel about it. Guilty? Maybe, but it was his life. These were his sense. Like giving the bite, or pack bonds, or the tacit acceptance of injuries. What else could he do but experience it?

He thought about asking Stiles what it was like to be human. What smells did he associate with Derek? What sounds? What was it like for him experiencing Derek as Stiles? But he couldn’t bring the thoughts to the surface, couldn’t form them into words out of the fog that was his head right now, so instead he waited for Stiles and his seemingly infinte font of words to fill the silence.

“What’s it like…” he started, and then rolled his head on the hard floor like he thought it would help him process, “What’s it like, being bitten?”

Derek shrugged. “I guess you’d have to ask Scott.”

“I think about it, y’know?”

Stiles voice was almost a whisper, light and breathy, meant to be overlooked or misheard. But Derek was a werewolf, and he could hear Stiles’ heart beating behind the wall of his ribs and the food digesting in his stomach. Stiles couldn’t have any secrets that weren’t in his thoughts.

“Think about what?”

“The bite? Becoming a werewolf. I can’t...there’s never a good way to bring it up. I don’t want it to happen when I’m dying, but if I’m not dying then...then it feels selfish. Like I’m asking for superpowers just because.”

“But you are.”

Stiles smacked his shoulder back, and his scent turned sour with some negative emotion Derek couldn’t parse.

“I guess so. But I want it, I want to see the world the way you do, and I want to be as capable as you are. I want to be a part of things, for real.”

It was Derek’s turn to smell sour, and a frown pulled at his face. “Stiles you’re a part of the pack. You always will be, you’re so important to everything we do.”

His voice was rising, slow but steady, and he was ratcheting himself up onto one arm to look Stiles in the face, but Stiles was already rolling his eyes.

“You’ve saved all of us so many times, and you’ve been there for every crisis, and I just don’t know what it will take for you to start feeling like one of us, but I’ll do it, Stiles, I will! Just tell me and I’ll do it!”

Stiles smiled, soft and gentle, and reached up to pull at the soft curls of Derek’s hair. He’d said before that he liked it like this, long and just starting to curl. He knew if he grew it out properly it would turn into a mop of ringlets, but he could never quite commit to it. Maybe he would now.

“That’s sweet of you to say, sourwolf.”

“It’s not sweet, I _mean it_ \--”

“I know,” he said, “but that’s not what I mean. I know I’m pack, but I’m also human. I’m not supernatural. I can’t sense these things, I’m not magic or even sensitive to magic. I’m just...it feels like a membrane I can’t quite push through. I want to know the world the way you do. Deeply, without...without all the limits.”

“Are you saying...are you asking me to bite you?”

Stiles eyes flicked down from his hair to meet his gaze, and Derek swallowed. He wasn’t lying, about the magnetic feeling, and a pull started to rise in his mouth, the fluttering skin of Stiles’ pulse suddenly a flashing neon beacon.

“I’m not...I don’t want to demand it. I don’t want to just...I mean, I should think about it more, probably? That seems like a thing I should do.”

“How long have you been thinking about it before now.”

“Since, um...since high school.”

“Sounds like long enough to me.”

Stiles pulled in a breath slowly, and then let it out, a slight quaver to his lips that broadcast his nervousness. Derek’s mouth hung open, just a little, just enough for Stiles to see the fangs he had instead of teeth, enough to remind him of the danger and the promise. He couldn’t force this, he knew that, but he also knew he’d never heard anything so tempting in his life. He wanted to bite Stiles. He needed to bite Stiles. He needed it to be Stiles’ decision.

Stiles searched his face, dragging slow breaths in and out of him in a bid to stay calm, and seemed to find something there. In his eyes, maybe. It didn’t seem like he found it in his mouth.

After a chasm of suspended time, each of them waiting for what was about to happen to happen, Stiles steeled himself, and then nodded, and in doing so pulled his head back to show his throat. Derek slid down instead, settling on his side by Stiles’ hips and hitching his shirt up and out of the way.

“It takes better, when you do it here. Ups your chances.”

“That’s right,” Stiles said faintly, “I might die from this.”

“Do you still want to?” Derek looked up from where he’d poised over Stiles’ stomach and caught his eye, looking for some assurance in turn.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed.

So Derek leaned down. His teeth touched the flesh, and then parted it, a small popping feeling accompanying each one entering Stiles’ body, and then they were all in and he could taste pennies in his mouth, and Stiles was gasping breaths against him and trying not to thrust his hips up and buck Derek off and he felt like he was flying. The endorphins and magic and pack bond swirled through both of them, a feedback loop he was powerless to stop, and he dug in tighter for a moment before releasing him, and pushing back a few inches to gasp for air himself.

“Holy shit,” Stiles says, “Holy shit.”

“What do you hear?” Derek asked.

“I…” Stiles tipped his head as if to focus, and then his eyes widened and flicked down to Derek’s chest, “I hear everything. Why are you so _loud_?”

Derek laughed, and buried his face in the uninjured part of Stiles stomach, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“We’re all loud, Stiles. The world is so _loud_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, something I wrote in an hour and it has biting in it. When I put my brain through a sieve, biting seems to be the main thing that comes out. I don't even know, at this point.
> 
> But it works, and it's my first attempt at doing Sterek Bingo, so woo!


End file.
